


don't care for a stranger's touch, but you can't hold your man

by alextheghostdrummer



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, Bottom Michael, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Lost Decade, M/M, Pre-Canon, Smut, Top Alex Manes, Unreliable Narrator, and then hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:27:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24903811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alextheghostdrummer/pseuds/alextheghostdrummer
Summary: a lost decade fic from the last time michael and alex met (before the pilot)
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39
Collections: Home in your arms





	1. And there you are

**Author's Note:**

> ok so i had very angsty vivid images of their fights and i had to do it

“It’s been years”, he thought to himself though he wasn’t quite sure anymore. Was barely sure of what he was seeing: it might have been imagination playing a trick on him, maybe a mental illness creeping, or maybe God or whoever the fuck playing a distasteful trick on him. It all came crashing down as thundering waves against rock shores, once he laid his eyes on the now proud airman before him. Flashes so overwhelming, he felt off-balance. Images of memories that were once victim of smothering by one Michael Guerin. Shoved, maimed at the back of his skull. Tied up and shunned behind a closed door he would only let himself peek once in a while, intoxicated and staring up the ceiling of his Airstream, drifting off to sleep, we’d let the memories keep him warm. It was his I miss Alex Manes door. For some time, the cowboy wouldn’t dare to even speak his name, his wounds were too fresh and his mind was too fucked up to let himself feel anything towards Alex Manes. Not anger, not pain, not longing and definitely not love. 

But there he was: military outfit and all and Michael felt the lump he would usually shove down (especially when it came to his ex-lover) ascending so swiftly he might’ve as well have sobbed right then and there, well, if he wasn’t sobering up real quick. Subsequently, against his better judgement, or lack thereof, he found himself trudging so nonchalantly he felt himself out of character, though closer to Alex and that wasn’t out of character. Michael knew better than deny himself that truth. Alex’s eyes met his and for just a second he thought that perhaps that was a bad idea after all. Too late: he was just a foot away. Now he had to carry on with whatever the fuck this was. “His eyes”, the other-worldly man thought; Alex Manes’s eyes were the almost the same, a little creased, the unforgiving lines of age had nothing on the consequences of his duty. “Heavy is the burden”, he recalled. A little older but still Alex. His Alex… his Alex? He wasn’t sure anymore. 

He noticed the airman shifting his attention towards the elderly man that had his back turned to Michael, gave him a small polite nod, bearing an equally small polite smile and off the men went. 

“Guerin”, Alex acknowledged the other man standing by him 

“Alex”, he tipped his black cowboy hat sarcastically

Of course Alex’s inquiring eyes were examining him, deeming him either wasted, pissed off or just itching for a fight. Maybe all of the above.

“How was war?”, he asked ironically 

Alex scratched his eyebrow looking remorseful for even giving him the time of day. 

“What do you want, Guerin?”, finally he inquired already irked at this whole interaction

“Just wondering how the prime youngest Manes man”, he noticed Alex flinched slightly at those words, “was doing after being a war hero and all”

“Not a war hero”, he reminded Michael

“Yet”, he made sure his tone to do the remarking for him

“Look I’m on my way to the Crashdown, if you have any other snarky comments to make be sure to miss me” he concluded dryly.

Alex barely took another step before his upper arm was grabbed as a request for him to be still. Michael inhaled sharply, cleared his throat and queried, now with a more serious tone:

“How are you?”

Alex scoffed and before uttering his reply, released his arm from the other man’s grip. 

“I’m fine”, holding his glare, “You?”

“Fine”, he muttered, “how have you been enjoying your time apart from the Airforce?”

His own two eyes must have betrayed him from the way Alex’s entire expression and posture shifted.

“Just got back”, he answered softly

Five in the afternoon, approaching dusk, blood orange and pink skies where there to attest. He might’ve been able to appreciate the colors of the sky if the current circumstances were different. 

“Guess I’ll see you around”

Alex managed only a nod before going about his day. Probably on his way to greet Arturo, he was the closest thing of a father figure to him, after Jim Valenti. God, he needed to drink again. Plodding slower than usual, his black rusty boots weighed heavy, not as heavy as his heart though. As it appeared, Michael had forgotten what the hell he was going to do either way, as his stared at his disgraceful reflection on his now clean truck. Sighing, he scrambles through the inside of his jeans pocket’s until he takes his keys out. It was a known fact that he needed something in his stomach before slipping back to his own destructive coping (if you can even call it that) mechanisms. His stomach growls angrily. “Huh, the Crashdown”, it was the place where he was going. That wasn’t the plan anymore since a very annoyed airman was heading the diner. Guess the beat-up diner close to The Wild Pony will have to do. 

A lot of time was wasted looking absently at his surroundings still taking in the previous interaction and not so much eating the suspicious looking burger. After snapping out of the short catatonia-like period, Michael basically swallowed the burger, praying that the aftertaste would be washed away by the copious amounts of beer he was about to ingest. Standing up from the cheap metal stool by the counter. The smell of grease and cigarettes filled de air and the background sound of chit-chatter and the clinks of silverware and glass cups became more evident. Risen from his seat, he striding out of the front door.

As crowded as you would expect the bar to be on a Saturday evening, therefore very. Plodding he notices the amount of car parked out front, he sighed, it was gonna be a long night. The first thing to be notices were colors, purple, and blue and red, and as always the various shades of brown from the wood floors, tables and bar counter and bar shelves. Somewhat decent singing echoing. Passing through intoxicated regulars he finds his usual now dark-wooden stool, plonking himself onto it. The cowboy is greeted by one docile but sarcastic smile from Maria Deluca.

“Back so soon?”, she inquires half smiling and half laughing 

He only manages a grunt as a response, bringing the heels of his hands to his eyelids 

“Whiskey shot?”, she offered 

“Sure. Why the hell not?”, he utters defeated and annoyed all at once. He came for the beers, whiskey couldn’t hurt

She set a shot glass over the counter with a tap, carrying the whiskey bottle by its neck and pouring the chestnut colored liquid 

“Wanna talk about it, Guerin?”, a small tugging at the corner of her lips

“I’m fine, Deluca”, he responded, subsequently chugging his beverage, “But if you wanna make yourself useful, I’m also in the mood for beer”, he gives a flashing smile filled with mockery  
She rolled her eyes but brought the beer from the beat-up beverage refrigerator, slamming it shut to make evident her displeasure. The beautiful woman cracks the bottle open with a haste that showed equal efficiency and annoyance

“Suit yourself”

He lost track of how many bottles of beer he had gulped down. He was more than slightly drunk-happy although far from wasted. Long way to go still. Maria went back to the counter, when the hell had she left? He chuckled softly to himself. She turned her attention to him

“Another beer, Gu-“, before she finished her sentence and he could’ve said “Hell yeah” he watched as her dark eyes widened as did her smile. He could actually feel her bewilderment. And his curiosity only grew, thus turning his head around.

Big mistake.

“Alex Manes”, Maria announced pleased with both the view and herself

To his right was the man himself. Black t-shirt, black pants and a jean jacket. Michael had examined him down blatantly before he could’ve even noticed it, his eyes darted to the airman automatically  
He saw Alex smile before it faltered once he acknowledged him

“Maria”, he said smiling again

Fuck. He is so beautiful. Michael wanted the feel of his skin under his fingertips

Maria ran from behind the bar counter, exiting it, then throwing her arms around Alex.

“It’s so good to see you”, her loud excited voice muffled by his jacket 

“What? You though I’d died?”, he chuckled

She threw him a displeased and slightly hurt look

“Sorry”, he mumbled taking her hand to his 

“I know you’re emo and dark, and whatever but that was not funny. I don’t like when you joke about you dying. It’s not funny to me”, she appeared more hurt than annoyed

“I know. I’m sorry”

“It’s ok, sweetie”, said the bar owner, placing one hand over his jaw and cheek, drawing small circles with her a thumb

Michael was… jealous. Jealous of Maria? Perhaps, given the intimacy of the moment between the two friends, and he wished that he was the one to touch him so endearingly, especially before public eyes. He craved that since he laid his eyes on the airman earlier, but was too proud and resentful to do anything but spat at his once upon a time lover. He sniffled back a sob. He had to leave immediately. It hurt to leave, but it seemed to hurt even more to stay. He stood up, barely, and staggered his way towards the entrance. Well, almost. He had unwittingly, with his disoriented steps, thrown a man off-balance. The man fell and promptly was back on his two feet, his face flared-up, violence slipping in, he pushed Michael forcefully. 

“What the hell, man?”, shouted the angry man 

Michael braced himself against the walls of the Wild Pony. Once he felt steady, he stalked in the direction his aggressor, only to be stopped by a strong grip on his shoulder. “Guerin”, the man said sternly

“Let me go, Alex”, his voice oscillated between a higher e lower pitch

“Guerin, c’mon, I’ll take you home”, he offered 

“I can take care of myself”, he freed himself from the other man’s grip, stumbling 

“Guerin, you’re drunk. I’m not leaving you here and I’m not letting you drive. I can ask Maria to call someone to pick you want” 

Michael wanted to pick a fight with that dumbass hillbilly guy, hell, the dude started it. But he started to ease up a bit. In truth, he wanted to go home, despite not being drunk enough, according to his standards: the cowboy was exhausted. He opted for exiting the establishment 

And apparently Alex had followed suit catching up to him in the deserted parking lot. 

“I’m serious, Guerin”, he took the cowboy’s arm, “I’m not letting you drive”

“Good luck with that”, he retorts going to the driver’s side of his truck

In a speedily motion, Alex ran to him, scrambling through his pocket until he took his keys. Fucking military reflexes. 

“Give me my keys back”, he argued loudly 

“No, I’m taking you home. You can ask someone to drive you here to get your truck back. But there’s no way in hell I’m letting you drive like this”, he turned around, marching towards his car, “Now, c’mon, let’s go”  
Michael groaned loudly: “Ugh” 

With a click, the headlights on the airman’s car glowed yellow and the car was unlocked.


	2. Too proud to beg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i know i took some time to finally post this i guess i was... insecure about it (about my writing) but here we are.  
> if it seems like i glossed over the smut part it's bc it is my first time writing it and also it's not the central part of the story  
> this is a lil more angsty just like i wanted it to be. i hope y'all like it

The drive to his Airstream was a painfully silent one. Both men decided that the quiet was better than whatever they needed to voice to each other after well, basically two years without seeing each other. After Alex left his sorry ass, again. He felt his wounded hand stiffen. A reminder of that treacherous thing: hope. 

At last, he was home. Alex promptly opened his door, swung it shut, and went to the passenger’s side, hence to open the door for Michael. He offered a hand and the other-worldly who hesitated at first, but yielded quickly and allowed himself to be supported by him. Only the dull moonlight would dare to shine over them. Strong, toned muscles under his arm, keeping him balanced. It felt good to be held by the airman again, who appeared to be more in shape than ever. The cowboy couldn’t help but want more, see more, touch more. As soon as they were in front of the doorstep, inebriated and longing with more intensity Michael risked a kiss. Soft warm lips welcomed him, and suddenly, he felt himself breathe for the first time in a while.

It was second-nature to him, the feeling of Alex’s skin beneath his touch, the wetness of his lips, his shaky breathing. Cupping his face and letting his hands feel the strands of dark hair between his finger; it was familiar. Fingers interlocking his curls; it was like coming home, he could only imagine. The other man parted their mouths sooner than he would have liked, reality crashing in too quickly.

“Guerin”, Alex pushed his wild curls behind his ear, and cradled his jaw, “We can’t… You’re drunk.”

“Stay”, he pleaded, sheltering the other man’s hands over his own, “Please”

“Guerin”, he said this time more sternly

“We don’t have to do anything, Alex. I just… I just want you to stay. Please”, “I’ve missed you”, he wants to say. “I love you. Please stay. Don’t leave me again.”

He complied with a nod. Michael shuffled in his pockets for his keys, disoriented, meanwhile Alex just took the keys out of his jacket’s pocket, handing them to Michael, who appeared to be having a hard time opening his Airstream. After some seconds of missing the keyhole a couple of times, Alex plucked them out of his hands and finally opened the goddamn place. 

Alex undressed him carefully, finding whatever comfortable pieces of clothing we could in the dark and next dressing him with the same gentleness. He laid him down cautiously, mindful of the lack of visibility, the small space and the lethargic weight of the cowboy in his arms. Alex lied beside him, nuzzled up against the crook of Michael’s neck. His beloved was fast asleep, his breathing steady and gentle. The airman had one arm under the other man’s neck and the other resting over his chest as to shelter him from the world and drawing comfort for the calm thudding of his heart. He felt himself slowly shutting his eyes. 

The background noises were as revolting as the sunlight against him eyelids shinning bright red. Perhaps not as revolting as the throbbing of his own head. Ah, being hungover, truly the unked man thought his body would identify drinking as part of a habit and not react with a violent headache. What good was being an alien when you don’t have a better alcohol resistance? Well, at least having telekinesis was pretty cool. There was a creek and then door to the Airstream opened and there stood a sun-beamed Alex Manes with glistening hazel eyes. 

“Got you some medicine for your head”, he said upon climbing the small stairs. He delicately placed the oval shaped pill over the cowboy’s hand, “Just a sec”

Quickly after that a cool bottle of water was handed to Michael who only managed to lift his upper body long enough to swallow the pill and collapsed back to onto his bed. On the small counter behind his bed Alex set a brown paper bag.

“Thought you might be hungry”, he uttered, “Coffee, burger and fries. Not an ideal meal but a cure for hangover”, he smiled

“Thanks”, Michael replied, his voice rougher than the usual, “I’ll pay you back”

Alex just nodded, he understood that was no use in trying to convince him otherwise. He turned around, about to exit when Michael blurted out his name.

“Yeah?”

“Do you wanna go to Foster Ranch and look at the stars?”, he cleared his throat, as to diverge Alex’s attention from how small he just sounded. “Like we used to”, he concluded

“It’s practically midday now. It’ll be hard to spot any constellations looking straight at the sun. Stargazing is better at night, maybe at night we’ll have more luck at spotting them”, he answered with a smug sarcastic smile

Michael rolled his eyes dramatically, though it actually hurt his head a bit to do so

“Is that a yes?” he inquired, unamused

“Yeah, see you there at 10 PM”

Ten o’clock in the evening came unbearably slow if you’d ask Michael. Nevertheless, he was relieved to see a single jeep parked on the vicinity of the ranch with one Alex Manes resting his body against the hood of the vehicle.

“Feeling nostalgic yet, Private?”, he shouted as climbing out of his truck

Alex just chuckled at the man before him.

The cowboy climbed out of his truck with a six-pack of beer in one hand, a blanket and a sleeping back over his shoulder, he positioned both the make-shift bed onto the tailgate and proceeded to lay down the tailgate

“Thought I’d bring some snacks”, Alex told him, showing him what appeared to be a plastic bag, “And flashlight, figured we would need one of those”, he set the bag aside

“Never unprepared right, Private?”

“Y’know, I don’t know what to feel about you calling me that name”, Alex confessed sitting down next to him on the back of his truck

“What? Private?”, he replied turning the flashlight on and setting it behind them, on the corner of tailgate. Alex nodded. “It’s just a nickname, Alex. And I thought it was a funny one” he scooted backwards only to lie over their make-shift bed. Alex followed suit

“I know, it’s just”, the airman paused looking at the night sky, “it sounds passive-aggressive. I mean, because of our history”

“Well I could say it is not but that’s not entirely true. Guess it kinda depends on my mood” said the other man smirking

Shifting closer to Michael, Alex felt him putting his arm under his neck, and he just leaned his head and body sideways against the cowboy’s. A rough hand stroked his upper-arm, occasionally squeezing it 

“I never get over how beautiful it is”, he mumbled, his eyes to the sky

Although the sky was truly beautiful and at times the only source of comfort to Michael, his eyes were darting the airman, or at least what he could see given the awkward way Alex had positioned himself. He scooted down to be at eye-level with the other man. He noticed how he mildly startled Alex, snapping him out of whatever trance the stars had him in. He positioned himself sideways so he could that a better look at him, despite the fact that the dim starlight could provide so much visibility, only his silhouette would be enough to bring him the brimming happiness he felt under his skin. Alex was there, he was right there beside him. Nothing in the world could compare to that feeling.

Michael leaned forward, cupping his neck and cheeks and brought their lips together. The kiss was slow and sweet, not as desperate as the one they shared the other night. The sound on heavy breathing and wet lips touching filled the entire desert, though it was their own private song. 

“Thought you wanted to watch the stars”, Alex’s voice was so low, so quiet, it might’ve been a whisper

“I did. I do, but only for a minute. I want the spend the rest of it looking at you”

“Well, if that’s what you’re gonna do: I’ve got a better idea for the use of that time”, he whispered on his ear nibbling at his lobule

“Fuck, Alex”

Alex swiftly straddles the other man, the friction of their clothed bodies making them dizzy, threading his hands through the tangle of curls, tugging them slightly. It drives Michael insane. He takes his hands to the airman’s back, sliding them up and down greedily. The structure of his broad shoulders, his sides, his spine. Whilst Alex had one hand cradling his jaw and other on his chest moving upwards and reaching his nipple, caressing gently, pinching it. Which earned him a low groan. Alex then moved to his collarbone licking it and leaving wet kisses along the curve of his neck, and next, his jawline. They kiss, messily, between tongues sliding against each other and bites they were panting into each other’s mouths. Surreptitiously, Alex moves his hand over Michael’s bulge gripping it tightly and at that Michael couldn’t help but make a high-pitched desperate sound, needy. Alex stopped kissing him to look at him. Something in his expression changed, his cheeks were flushed and his pink (now red) was swollen, but his eyes were dark alongside his emerging grin. Fuck. That expression meant Michael was now prey, and that should be uncomfortable, perhaps intimidating. It was, though, intimidating, but it was also hot. He only managed a gasp. The airman proceeded to undo his belt, unzipping his pants torturously slow while never breaking eye-contact, Michael swallowed hard. Then he shoved his pants down, a contrast to his now his soft fingers trailing Michael’s still clothed cock. He played with his waistband like an animal playing with their prey. Cruel.

“Alex, please”, he pleaded with his whole body, twitching his hips slightly forwards

“Please, what, Guerin?”, voice muffled by Michael’s hipbones, placing open-mouth kisses 

“Please, Alex, please, do whatever you want just…”

“Make you come?”, he said smugly, with and equal smug smile

Michael nodded vehemently, his breath shuddered. That was all the confirmation the other man needed. Alex’s grin spread wide, evil. He shoved the cowboy’s boxers enough to free his cock, sliding his tongue from his head towards the beginning of his shaft. He sucked him off hard and fast, unlike the teasing torture he’d imagined it would come. His release was blissful and aggressive all the same, shooting stars against his eyelids. They traded places and Michael eagerly welcomed Alex cock to his mouth, he returned the favor with a messy blowjob just the way Alex liked and that the cowboy enjoyed performing likewise.

After the climax festival they lied on their backs, Michael quickly pillowed his head over the other man’s chest, listening to the sound of his steady heartbeat. He could absolutely get used to the sound of Alex’s heart and breath easing him to sleep. He arched his knee over the other man’s thigh, and clung to his t-shirt as if he would disappear. Alex’s response was embracing his body tightly. They slept comfortably, consumed by the other’s presence.

The harsh New Mexico sunlight was blinding red against his eyelids, when the cowboy opened his eyes at last, he was greeted by a soft and reassuring embrace despite the unbearable heat. He guessed they moved a bit during the night since the other man was now cuddling him, being the big spoon. He moved his body as gently as he could to not disturb the other man

“Good morning”, Alex muttered

“You’re awake”, he turned around 

“I’ve been for a while now”, he cupped his jaw, caressing his cheek with his thumb 

“I could get used to this y’know”, he smiled amidst the confession, “getting up to you next to me”

And just like that, quick as lightning, Alex frowned, his mouth twisting in a manner Michael couldn’t quite put his finger on. What happened? He portrayed a mix of emotions in his face, a variety of them, with a blatant unprovoked sadness that lingered in his eyes even as they drift to his surroundings. Simultaneously Michael wanted to kiss it better and runaway: he knew where this was going and he couldn’t endure this, whatever this was, happening all over again. It was puzzling and complex in a way that didn’t spark any joy to Michael’s curious and scientific spirit. Yet he stood there, unmovable staring at the man he loved, waiting, wishing his reply was a different one, different than all of those times he left before. Instead, Alex just look anywhere but him, unwilling to face him. It hurt too much, before Alex would leave because of a stupid fight or some stupid shit he pulled, but now he had done nothing, not a damn single thing. He felt his panic rise way too sharply: he would give him a reason to go.

“What, Alex?”, he said harshly 

“Nothing”, his response was stiff, airman-like, his soldier façade rising as swiftly as his defenses, “I should go”, he rapidly slid his body out of the bed of the truck, forgetful of his belongings 

“You always do this!” the cowboy nearly shouted

“What, Guerin?”, emotion slipping over the facade

“You always run. We are having a nice moment maybe in the morning after, maybe a few minutes after we just had fucked then something happens and you make a run for it”, he spat 

“What do you want me to say? That we can have this? Whatever this is? You know the answer as well as I do”

“And what would be the answer?”, Michael inquired bitterly 

“ I’m airman. I’m here then I’m not. I come back, then I’m shipped away God knows where”

“Is that it? You’re leaving again?”, unlikely that was, but he still found himself asking, the hurt that came with that thought surfaced

“Not right now, but eventually”, his voice cracked at those words

God that hurt, the thought of Alex leaving, this conversation, everything hurt. He laughed bitterly, laughing seemed better than bursting out crying 

“What did you think it was gonna happen, Guerin? We would fuck in your truck and I’d give up my career?”, he snapped

“Right, because I’m the idiot who waits around for you like a dog, hoping that you’d come back soon” 

“I’d never asked you to do anything, Guerin”, he asseverated

“Except you did. Every time you come around it’s like it doesn’t matter how long you’ve been gone, we crash into each other like magnets. Every action you make tells me you want this as badly as I do”

Alex inhaled sharply, his eyes red and threatening to start to form tears

“We can’t, Michael. You know he can’t”, he shrugged defeated 

“No. You won’t” he concluded dryly

Michael fumbled for his things haphazardly. Once he assembled them in his arms he jumped out of the make-shift bed, slamming the tailgate swiftly. On his peripheral vision he noticed Alex wince

“Michael-“, his voice cracked once again

“It’s such bullshit, Alex!”, he cried out as he opened the passenger’s door of his truck hurled his stuff onto the passenger’s seat, subsequently slamming the door

Alex winced again 

“I can’t be with you. It’s too dangerous for you”, the airman admitted, “Plus, I could never do this to you, when in battle, I don’t whether I’d live to see the next day, Guerin. I can’t promise you shit”

Michael scoffed. “Why are you doing this anyway? You never wanted to enlist. You wanted to make music”, he pointed out

“I’m not a kid anymore, Guerin”, he said exasperatedly, “That was some dumb dream I had when I was a kid. Some of us had to grow up some way somehow. We weren’t fortunate enough to get a full scholarship and threw that away for whatever fucking reason”

Michael smiled but nothing about his smile was genuine. He wanted to scream

“Well, I hope your dad is proud. You’re every bit the Manes man he wanted you to become. Congrati-fucking-lations, Alex”, he swung the door open, sat down, then hurled it shut

“He doesn’t love me”, the thought blasted in his brain like deafening alarms. It wasn’t a wakeup call, it felt like a death sentence. Insufferably loud, a disarray broke loose 

“Guerin-“, muttered the airman still static

“I take what I can get from you, Alex”, he blurted out, “It’s always been like that between you and me”, he exhaled a shrudded breath, “Ain’t gonna stop now”

Michael turned on the engine, slamming the accelerator violently against his foot.

He only allowed himself to look in the rear-view mirror once he was sure he was far enough from Alex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you liked it :)  
> please feel free to leave comments and/or feedback

**Author's Note:**

> oof, hope you're not too mad at me. i had to do it  
> comments and feedbacks are always welcomed


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